


Compasses

by bleumysti



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: F/M, Friendship/Love, Gen, Young Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2021-02-26 15:47:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21610666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bleumysti/pseuds/bleumysti
Summary: Loving Liz was something he was always good at. Loving Liz kept him whole.He realized he always would. Their relationship was as easy as breathing. He knew they would always be a permanent fixture in each other's lives.It was just who they were.Loving Liz came without restrictions and bounds. He loved her in all the ways he could, all the ways they could have been, all the ways they wouldn't be, all the ways they already were.She was his flame -- his compass, keeping him pointed in the right direction. He loved her like he loved parts of himself.Snippets of Kyle's relationship with Liz. Kyliz.
Relationships: Liz Ortecho & Kyle Valenti, Liz Ortecho/Kyle Valenti
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	Compasses

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I feel like such a trash Kyle stan. I would happily throw nearly every mother fker under the bus for my boy Kyle Valenti, and yet, I have failed him during his well-deserved week of celebration. :(
> 
> I’m so awful. For some reason, time got away from me, and life has been busy, and I don’t know. Anyway, I took a moment to freestyle something. There is a reference to their first time, but I assure you, it’s not smutty at all. 
> 
> As seen on tumblr.

—

He doesn’t remember the first time he met her. In truth, it always felt like he had known her forever.

He did remember the day he _saw_ her for the first time.

His father took him to the Crashdown to cheer him up. The table was sticky from a rush swipe to accommodate the Sunday crowd.

He sat in the booth staring at his too-small hands as his feet dangled nowhere near touching the floor.

He was small for his age – the shortest boy in class, but his father told him he would come into his own one day when he was really old, like 16 or something.

“Kyle, mijo,” his father rasped in the deep voice that always comforted him. Johnny Morales once told him his dad was scary.

He said he sounded like a monster, and that his mother told him it was because the sheriff smoked his pipe too much.

He told him that his grandfather smoked a pipe too much, and that’s what sent him to heaven.

He told Johnny to be quiet. He didn’t know what heaven meant before then, but now he does.

It’s where his best friend Dodger was now. He can’t remember a time when Dodger wasn’t part of his life. They would race each other down the driveway.

Dodger would lick his face and paw at him. They’d roll around in the dirt until his mom threatened them both with the chancla.

At night, Dodger would lie at the foot of his bed while his mom read him a bedtime story, and he was still there when he woke up the next morning.

Dodger won’t be there anymore, though.

“Kyle, buddy,” his father ducked his head into his line of sight and tried to get his attention.

He couldn’t think about breakfast when all he wanted was his best friend back.

“MaGoo,” Jim sighed. He cupped Kyle’s face with rough, calloused hands. His dark eyes were deep, dark pools of warmth and love.

He didn’t care what Johnny said. He could never see his daddy as a scary monster.

“I know it’s hard. I miss him too,” Jim’s voice lowered an octave. “Why don’t we get pancakes? Dodger really loved pancakes.”

Kyle sniffled and nodded his head. Only when Jim slid out the booth to place their order at the counter did he allow the tears to fall.

“I’m sorry you miss your doggy,” a sincere voice whispered from the next booth.

When he looked up, he saw Lizzy Ortecho. He knew her Papi was the one who ran the Crashdown, and he would see her hanging around sometimes.

He also recognized her from Kindergarten. She had the biggest and best-braided mat at naptime, and sometimes she would share it with someone else.

Usually, it was Maria DeLuca. They would whisper a lot and read books instead of taking a nap, but the teacher never seemed to mind. Lizzy was on chapter books and everything. They didn’t even have pictures.

He swiped his face while she stared at him with huge expressive brown eyes and two long pigtails.

“It’s OK to cry,” she whispered over the booth as if she didn’t want anyone else to hear. “My Papi says crying is good for your heart. It’s nothing to hide.”

Before he could react, she was around the booth and climbing into his. “Can you help me?”

He grabbed her hand and helped pull her up, and he smiled a little because she was small too. Her feet dangled more than his.

She laced her hand with his, and he didn’t usually think it was cool to hold girls’ hands. He barely held his mom’s hand if he could avoid it, but Lizzy made him feel warm and comfortable, and he squeezed it firmly in his.

“My Abuela is in heaven too,” she said. “I miss her a lot, but …” her eyes lit up like she just had the best idea, and she nearly bounced in the booth wanting to share it with him.

“I bet your Dodger is with my Abuela in heaven. She loves dogs too. She’ll take good care of him,” she leaned in conspiratorially until her nose was nearly brushing his, and he didn’t even have the urge to move away.

“I promise. She’ll make him pancakes too. She used to always sneak us pancakes.”

“Dodger loves pancakes,” he felt a sense of relief knowing Dodger would still get some.

“And so do you, mijo,” Jim’s voice boomed over them as he set a huge stack of pancakes covered in cinnamon sugar in front of Kyle.

“Little Miss Elizabeth Ortecho,” Jim said with a flourish. He took his hat off and bowed to her, and any fear she had upon seeing him vanished with a toothy grin.“Thank you for keeping my boy company.”

Jim eyed Kyle and smirked at the sparkle in his son’s eyes and their entwined hands, “And for making him feel better.” Liz nodded at Jim, but her eyes grew large as saucers when she saw the pancake stack.

“Papi made you churro pancakes,” she exclaimed with a hint of barely concealed excitement. “He only makes them on special occasions.”

“Really?” Kyle was shocked that he would be considered a special occasion.

Liz nodded. “They’re my favorite,” she whispered. He squeezed her hand and looked her in the eye. “Then we can share them.”

She flashed him a brilliant, toothy smile that made him return it in kind, and he grabbed the extra fork from the spare utensils wrapped in a napkin.

He handed it to her, and that time he got a bashful smile instead.

“Ohh, wait.” She reached across the table for the syrup dispenser. “We’re going to need lots and _lots_ of syrup.”

He nodded in agreement giddy, and his father chuckled. “Now hold on you two,” he said around a mouthful of his eggs. “Not too much syrup now.”

“Yes sir,” they both said in unison before laughing together too.

They dug into the stack of pancakes at once, relishing the first bite.

“Thanks, Lizzy,” Kyle smiled at her and didn’t flinch when her hand found its way in his again.

“Your welcome, Kyle.” She giggled when they got into a fork battle over the pancake piece with the most cinnamon sugar.

He missed Dodger, but he realized it didn’t mean he had to be alone.

– 

She wasn’t his first kiss. That honor went to Tali Redfeather the year before, but his breath caught when the empty ginger beer bottle landed on Liz.

He really liked Liz. She was warm, kind, and smart.

He always found himself wrapped up in her orbit, and when he looked at her, he always felt the most himself. It wasn’t that she saw the best in him so much as she brought it out of him.

When he was around her, he didn’t give off fake pretenses. He felt the most himself, and she made him feel like the person he was – was more than enough.

He didn’t get that feeling often. Junior High was a bitch that way.

Her long hair fell into her eyes shielding her face, and he longed to reach across and tuck it behind her ears. The funny thing was if it was him, she would have done it without thought.

Her presence was all-consuming. She took over a room when she walked in it, and she was warm-hearted and affectionate without even considering it.

The rest of the circle got rowdy, chanting for them to kiss, and he could see Liz’s face heating up.

There was always something about her that made him feel protective, not that she usually needed it.

He grabbed her hand, mouthed “trust me,” and helped her to her feet.

“We’ll do seven minutes in heaven,” he proposed nodding toward a closet.

He ignored the whooping and hollering as he shuffled Liz into a small closet and shut the door.

It was pitch black, except for the light slipping in beneath the door. He searched high and low for a light, his hands landing on parts he otherwise wouldn’t have touched without permission based on Liz’s tiny gasp.

“Sorry about that,” he grunted. He finally found a switch and a dim light came on just bright enough for him to see Liz’s face inches from his.

She smiled at him after a while.

“What?” He couldn’t make sense of the look in her eye. 

“Thank you,” she whispered sincerely. “I didn’t want to play. I didn’t even want to come, but Rosa told me to be bold and daring, and she always gets me into things like this,” she rambled.

“You are brave, and you are bold,” he said truthfully. “And you’re doing that thing where you ramble because you’re nervous, and I promise, Liz. I _promise_ I won’t touch you.”

He paused when he heard someone outside the door, and he thumped it and heard whoever was outside scramble away.

“You didn’t seem comfortable,” he whispered his breath warm against her cheek. “I just wanted to give you a few minutes to relax. I-” he cleared his throat, heat rising to his cheeks. “I didn’t expect you to kiss me.”

She wrapped her hands around his waist unexpectedly and buried her head beneath his chin.

“Oh,” he hesitated before slowly wrapping his arms around her back.

They stood there in an embrace for two long minutes that weren’t long enough, and he started to wonder just how long seven minutes was.

She was warm against him, her body pressed against his centered him, and a part of him knew he wouldn’t want to let go when the time called for it.

“You really think I’m brave and bold?” She asked, her voice muffled by her face pressed into his shirt.

“I– yeah, you’re the first to volunteer during oral presentations. I can’t imagine going first. You already chose to dissect a frog in your advanced science class, and all the other girls were terrified.

"You are always dancing, in the middle of the Crashdown where anyone can see, just because you want to.”

She chuckled into his shirt, and his arms tightened around her. “You’re plenty bold and daring, Liz Ortecho. And brilliant, and funny, and nice, and beautiful too.”

He cringed. The confined space and darkness lured him into a sense of security and made him spill his guts, or maybe it was just her.

“Yeah, um. You’re plenty bold and daring, it just doesn’t always look the same for everyone.”

She was silent for a while, and he was embarrassed and too afraid to pull away and see her face.

But then, she made him laugh, and his insecurities disappeared.

“You smell really good Kyle Valenti,” she said into his shirt.

She slowly pulled back and stared up at him. “You’re a nice guy, and you always make me feel … ” her cheeks had a warm blush, and she bit her lip nervously.

“Yeah?”

“You make me feel safe,” she whispered like she was sharing a secret.

He didn’t know what to think of that. He supposed safe was good. His father made people feel safe all the time.

His mind was spinning trying to understand what she meant, and he didn’t realize she had gotten closer until their noses were millimeters apart.

“What, uh, what are you doing, Liz?” He squeaked.

Her bright, dark eyes slipped from his to his lips as she murmured, “I’m being brave.”

She pressed her lips against his tentatively, and he held his breath.

She brushed her lips across his, pecking softly and then harder, experimenting with different pressure. Just as her tongue pushed against his bottom lip the closet door opened.

She pulled away at the sounds of whistles and cheers, and his hands dropped to his sides.

She bounded out, and he was left standing there, the taste of strawberry kiwi chapstick still on his lips.

Liz wasn’t his first kiss, but it was the first one that mattered.

– 

“Are you nervous?” He asked in the darkened room. “It’s okay if you’re nervous.”

“I’ve read books and done some research,” she said confidently.

To anyone else, she sounded self-assured, but he knew better. He could hear the anxiety behind her words, the way her voice trembled a bit.

But he could also tell the curiosity outweighed it. Liz’s curiosity was one of the things he loved about her.

His teammates never understood his fascination with Liz. She was smart and nerdy. She was the daughter of an illegal, and her sister was the most troubled teen in Roswell.

They thought he could do better. They thought she brought him down. Why would the school quarterback date Liz when they could have their pick of the cheerleaders?

They didn’t get it, though.

He often felt like he was at war with himself. Like he was torn between who he was, who he wasn’t, and who other people wanted him to be.

He knew most days he lost that war with himself, but with Liz, he was the closest to who he was and wanted to be.

With Liz, the rest of the world disappeared, and it was just them. She was that smart, beautiful science geek with plans he couldn’t begin to process, and he was the guy who wanted to help people.

No one understood that he was a nerd too. He could listen to Liz spout off facts and figures for hours. Her passion was contagious, and he wanted that. He wanted to be around that; he wanted to lose himself in that.

He wanted her. He wanted to lose himself in her, except, he was never lost in Liz.

No, Liz was where he found himself. 

When he didn’t recognize who he was anymore, or he fell victim to the pack mentality fostered by his sports team– when his near-constant identity crisis had him relying on a carefully curated image he saw countless of times in fiction, he need only look at Liz.

Liz was like a mirror, who reflected who he knew he was rather than everything he tried too hard to be.

With Liz, he didn’t have to try to be anything. He just … was.

She was his compass pointed at due north, and it scared him how so much of his identity relied on Liz serving as a vessel.

Time was slipping away from them, and he was no fool, so was Liz. He could feel her pulling away and distancing herself.

It was selfish of him to rely so heavily on her to keep him centered. It wasn’t fair to her; he knew that but every day was another battle, and he always lost.

Not even Liz could save him. She was tired. He saw it, and she was losing respect for him too.

It scared the shit out of him. He couldn’t imagine what he would do without Liz as his north star, guiding him back home.

He could be himself with Liz. She was his only form of solace, and so he needed to show her how much she meant. He felt her slipping away, and he hoped that sex would bring them closer together.

Isn’t that what everyone said? He shook his head at the thought. Thinking about what everyone else said is how he ended up a ball of confusion daily.

When she slipped out of her clothes slowly, he couldn’t breathe. She was stunning. He was surprised how effortless getting nude in front of him was for her, but Liz approached everything like a science experiment, and he had to stifle a chuckle.

“Are you laughing at me?” She asked her voice small, and she wrapped her arms around herself protectively.

He cursed himself for making her feel insecure when it’s the last thing she should have ever felt.

“No, I–” he stammered. He closed in on her, tilting her chin up until their eyes met. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

She must have seen the sincerity in his eyes, and the lust too. “Wow,” she whispered. “Your pupils really are dilated. This is so fascinating!”

He chuckled in disbelief at her choosing to take their first time together – their first time ever – as personal research.

They kissed, only breaking away long enough to divest him of his clothes.

She nibbled across his jawline, her fingers tracing across his chest.

Then, “Oh,” her eyes widened at the sensation of him against her unrestrained. It led to a thorough examination that would have made him feel vulnerable if not for her soft hands exploring and her warm breath far too close for comfort.

He couldn’t imagine sharing the experience with anyone but Liz. No hasty experience behind the locker room with a cheerleader would have had the same effect.

And groupies wouldn’t have asked to apply the condom just to get a feel for how it was done and differed from bananas in health class.

He wanted sex with someone he loved, and he loved Liz. Their first time was pain, pleasure, and a whole lot of awkwardness.

He wished he had been better for her, but then, it was a feeling he was familiar with recently.

But she reminded him of how he made her feel safe, and he couldn’t articulate how she made him feel whole and complete.

He hoped one day he would be able to tell her what she does for him.

– 

He fucked up. He knew it.

He lost that war within himself, and Liz got tired of being his anchor.

His mother was relieved that Liz dumped him, especially now, but she did impart some wisdom upon him.

It was no one’s job to be his everything.

It wasn’t Liz’s job to make him better or to remind him to be better. He had to do that for himself.

He thought he was too young for regrets and yet, regrets were all he had left.

She broke up with him, lost her sister, and he never got to say goodbye.

Graduation was a somber affair as the town mourned the loss of their classmates.

He mourned the loss of his constant.

For the first time, he had to think about who he was without Liz Ortecho.

It wasn’t her job to remind him to be a better person. But her memory and his regret could be enough.

– 

She taught him how to love science, and even though he hadn’t seen her in ages, that love she fostered was in him.

He looked for her everywhere. He knew it was foolish.

She left town without looking back. She missed her own sister’s funeral, so why would she be there for his father’s?

He couldn’t save his dad, but someday he would save others. He knew it was his calling. It was who he was meant to be.

It was of his own doing, no doubt, but there was a Liz shaped piece missing from him, only filled with the memories of her, and those memories sustained him through time.

He often joked to himself “What Would Liz Do,” but it was never about what Liz would do. It was about what he would do because of Liz.

His father was an alcoholic, but Liz Ortecho was his drug of choice. She lowered his inhibitions. She freed him.

Not the kid who wanted to impress, or the guy who always had something to prove, but the real him.

He went cold turkey on Liz eons ago, but he learned how to carry her with him. The same way he would carry his father with him.

The Valentis lived by a code, and sometimes he faltered with that, but he realized early on that Liz was the reason he knew how to honor it.

She was his due North, and he learned how to use the memories of her to meet himself in the mirror.

A new town, new friends, and new people meant he could be anyone he wanted to be, but for the first time in years, he chose to be himself – the person he withheld from so many for so long that he didn’t know if he existed anymore outside of moments.

Life lessons of lost love did wonders for him.

“Oh, perrito, I have something for you,” Michelle said solemnly.

His mom looked exhausted and lost. He had come to learn that his parents’ marriage was complicated, but he was the love of her life.

She told him over the phone when she gave him the news that she didn’t know what she was without Jim.

And he reminded her that she can’t let one person be her everything. She can’t hitch her identity to another person.

Michelle dug through the mail, swearing at the medical bills they sent the day Jim died as if he was numbers to crunch instead of a person.

“It was sent to you,” she handed him a postcard and pressed a kiss to his temple before returning to their guest.

His heart jumped to his throat. He recognized the swirly script. From the AP History notes, he borrowed, from her pro’s and con’s lists he would find everywhere.

She once wrote one for a movie they were going to see, and he rolled his eyes but loved it too.

> _Dear Kyle,_
> 
> _I hope this finds you. Papi told me about Sheriff Valenti, and I’m so sorry for your loss. I’m not sure if I believe in heaven anymore, but I would like to think he’s with my Abuela, my Rosa, and maybe playing catch with Dodger._
> 
> _Liz_

He traced her name like he used to caress her face as tears slipped down his cheeks.

He could hear her voice as clear as day. “It’s okay to cry. It’s good for your heart.”

He had no way of finding her. A postcard from somewhere east that didn’t tell him if she had settled.

He heard she was restless now. She didn’t stay put for long, and it amazed him that the girl who always grounded him couldn’t keep her feet on the ground long enough for anyone to return the favor in kind.

He didn’t know where she was, but he could feel her warmth from the card between his fingers. The way she radiated calm and energetic all at once.

He could see her face, smell her scent, and hear her voice in the recesses of his mind.

It was just a postcard, but it was like he was six again and she was holding his hand and telling him he would be OK, or 11, burying her face into his neck and making him feel whole, or 17 telling him how he made her feel safe.

And she never knew how much she made him feel safe too.

–

He never told her that he saw her once before she returned to Roswell.

It was a medical conference in Denver. Her voice was like a song he hadn’t heard in years, but he still remembered all the words.

He slipped into a room, and there she was, bold and brave, giving a presentation on some medical finding she had been working on for years.

She was still brilliant and sharp, and engaging. She spoke with her hands and that light in her eyes.

She still spoke about science like it was her purpose. She was passionate and exuberant. She wrapped everyone up in her bubbly geekfest too.

He wanted to meet her after, but a crowd had formed at the base of the stage.

A guy with dark hair flanked to her side, pecked her on the cheek like it was a habit, and he realized maybe, once again, their timing wasn’t right.

He thought she saw him across the room. She blinked slowly, her forehead creasing in the way it used to do when she got caught on a tough algebra problem.

He ducked out.

He wasn’t jealous. He was happy. She looked happy, and it’s all he ever wanted for her.bHe learned to live without Liz Ortecho a long time ago, but he carried her with him.

It took him years to figure out the love he had for her was bone-deep. It was part of him, _she_ was part of him.

He never subscribed to soulmates before, to that concept of twin flames. It wasn’t until years later that he realized that’s what she was for him.

She was his twin flame.

He thought about that when he saw her again, and when his lips met hers as she straddled him outside the Pony.

He thought about it when he redeemed himself in her childhood bedroom. Their sex was tender and hot, and it felt like some missing piece of him finally fell into place.

She looked at him like she saw him for who he was and who he wanted to be.

In the reflection of her eyes, he met himself in the mirror and liked what he saw.

To her, he wasn’t _New_ Kyle. He was just Kyle. The good guy who always got a little lost but always found himself in her. He thought about that when he got lost again.

His father was not the man he knew. His codes violated his actions in a way that sent him on a tailspin.

He and Liz shared a sister.

He was left drifting – reeling trying to process it all. His entire life was a lie, and he was barely keeping it together.

He knew it was just as hard if not harder for her, but there she was comforting him.

Sometimes, it felt like she was the only one who saw him. And wasn’t that what their relationship was? They always saw each other.

The first time he realized what loving Liz meant they were sitting in the desert. Her hand reached out for his, and he clasped it in his.

She rested her head on his shoulder, and he pressed a kiss to her hair.

She cried, and he reminded her that it was okay to cry. It was good for her heart, and then she laughed a little through the tears.

They were exhausted, to the bone, and they had no fucking clue what the upcoming days had in store for them.

Loving Liz was something he was always good at. Loving Liz kept him whole.

He realized he always would. Their relationship was as easy as breathing. He knew they would always be a permanent fixture in each other’s lives.

It was just who they were.

Loving Liz came without restrictions and bounds. He loved her in all the ways he could, all the ways they could have been, all the ways they wouldn’t be, all the ways they already were.

She was his flame – his compass, keeping him pointed in the right direction. He loved her like he loved parts of himself.

He wasn’t in love with her, not anymore, not really, but somehow, this was better. This wasn’t fleeting.

“You’re brave,” he whispered pecking her temple. “You’re bold, ” he repeated the gesture. “And you’re brilliant. You can get through anything.”

The desert air caused her to shiver, and she burrowed deeper into his embrace.

“You make me feel safe,” she whispered her throat thick with tears.

“You make me feel safe too,” he replied honestly.

“You keep me grounded, settled,” she sniffled. “Thank you.”

“You make me feel whole, capable, morally sound, so it’s the least I can do,” he snorted without humor.

“You’re always moral, Kyle. You’re a good guy. That never changed, even though you got lost sometimes.”

“Whenever I lost my way, I found it again because of you. Even when you weren’t physically there,” he squeezed her gently. “You were what always brought me back,” he whispered into her hair. “You did it then. You can do it now. You’ll do it forever.”

Her eyes shone bright, and he saw his reflection in them. He never stopped wanting to be the version of himself, the best part of himself he saw when he looked into her eyes.

He figured out a long time ago no one could ever understand the inexplicable bond they had and probably never would. He was OK with that though.

“Thank you, Kyle,” she whispered. She kissed his cheek and clung to his hand like he was a lifeline. “You know I love you, like, I..” her voice drifted off as she tried to articulate feelings she never knew how to explain.

But he knew. He always understood.

“I know,” he said, squeezing her hand. “I love you, too.”

They gripped each other like they were six again and knew there was another battle they had to face.

They would get through it. Together.

_–fin–_


End file.
